


Alright

by BrightBlueEyes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asperger Syndrome, Friendship, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightBlueEyes/pseuds/BrightBlueEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock isn't a Sociopath, but that's alright because John has nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alright

**Author's Note:**

> There was a prompt over at Kink Meme asking for Sherlock having to deal with ridicule and possible Asperger's but John understands. This was my fill.

" _You've met him. How many friends do you imagine he has?"_

_"Yeah, Sociopath, I'm seeing it."_

_"He's just a lunatic and he'll always let you down."_

John almost dropped his cup of tea into his lap. It suddenly clicked into place for him. The insults, sure, but moreso the way Sherlock flinched. The shock in his eyes when John had called him brilliant.

_"What do people normally say?"_

" **SHUT UP EVERYBODY! JUST SHUT UP! DON'T MOVE! DON'T SPEAK! DON'T BREATHE!** "

John watched as Sherlock plucked away at his violin, staring into nothing. He tried to observe what was in front of him. Sherlock was seemingly calm now, but earlier the rancor had rolled off of him in spikey waves, almost daring anyone to come near. The way he wore his coat, as if it were armour. It added up almost too perfectly. He knew he had to tread carefully. Bravery or stupidity, either way, John Watson was not a man to just ignore when a friend was hurting. And he had bloody well killed a man for Sherlock tonight, so if that didn't make them friends, nothing would.

"Sherlock?"John leveled his gaze to Sherlock and put his cup down. Sherlock blinked, clearing the haze from his eyes, and looked at John, but didn't bother to answer.

"Doesn't it bother you, when people say nasty things? About you I mean? I mean, Donovan tonight..."John let his voice trail off but his eyes stayed focused on Sherlock. The other man's face fell for a microsecond before curing up into a sneer.

"Why on earth would what those idiots say bother me?" Sherlock turned his attention back to his violin. John walked over to the couch and sat down next to Sherlock, not too close, but close enough so as not to be ignored. The other man tensed visibly.

Usually, John was a tactile man. He would hold a child's hand while he explained what he was going to do or tickle them after a shot to stop them crying. He would stroke a lover's hair and neck after sex while they fell asleep. Even in Afghanistan, especially in Afghanistan, where touches were rare, when giving direction in the midst of a firefight, he would hold an arm, or touch a chest to help keep his fellow soldier in the here and now. He picked up Sherlock's Union Jack pillow and put it in his lap as a barrier. To show Sherlock that he understood and could be trusted.

"When I first joined up, I was still a kid practically. Surrounded by guys younger than me. Some of the little fuckers were barely old enough to drink. We were terrified, naturally." John laughed a little. Sherlock looked uninterested, but had stopped plucking.

"Needless to say, we were loud. He who yelled loudest was the strongest. Anyone that was quiet or kept to themselves or was different, well, they got the most attention. So, it became very obvious very quickly that to survive, we had to be obnoxious and not let anyone get close. That kind of environment? You absolutely couldn't let anyone in because they could hurt you. Even if that hurt was them dying, it still fucking hurt. But you know what, you still let people in, Sherlock. You have to. Because it's all you have, and you just have to trust that they'll try their hardest not to die." John swallowed hard and looked up at Sherlock, who had given up any pretense of looking bored. He was openly fascinated by what John was telling him.

"I know it's not the same thing. I know it's not always a choice, and that's ok. You said potential flatmates should know the worst about each other, right?" John squared his shoulders and took a steadying breath. "I have nightmares sometimes. Blood and sand and gunfire, wake you up screaming because you've just fallen out of bed nightmares."

"I guess what I'm saying is, it's all fine." Sherlock laughed openly at that. Genuinely threw his head back and laughed. John joined in until they both had tears in their eyes.

And from that night on, if John Watson stood between Sherlock Holmes and Sally Donovan, well, that was alright, wasn't it?

And if some nights, Sherlock Holmes heard moaning from upstairs, and decided to play something to help John Watson sleep, well that was alright too.


End file.
